Lyrics Ben Folds – Rockin’ The Suburbs (Over The Hedge Version)

Let me tell y’all what it’s like
Watching Idol on a Friday night
In a house built safe and sound
On Indian burial grounds

We drive our cars everyday
To and from work both ways
So we make just enough to pay
To drive our cars to work each day
Hey, hey

We’re rockin’ the suburbs
Around the block just one more time
We’re rockin’ the suburbs
‘Cause I can’t tell which house is mine

We’re rockin’ the suburbs
We part the shades and face the facts
They’ve got better-lookin’ fescue
Right across the cul-de-sac

Hot real-estate rising stars
Get-rich-quick seminars
Soap opera magazines
Forty-thousand-watt nativity scenes

Don’t freak about the smoke alarm
Mom left the TV dinner on

We’re rockin’ the suburbs
From Family Feuds to Chevy Chase
We’re rockin’ the suburbs
Numb the muscles in our face

We’re rockin’ the suburbs
We feed the dog and mow the lawn

William Shatner:
«Hi! Sorry to bother you. The name’s Bill; I live just across the street. Yeah, that’s right just over there — no, no. Not that house, The one next to it with the extra flower bed?
Oh, and here’s all your papers from the last few days. They were just piling up on the driveway where the whole neighbourhood could see them. Not that that’s a problem, of course, but that and the grass being a little overgrown might give someone the impression you were out of town, and you wouldn’t want that! I’ve got to be going shortly to a little class I’ve been attending I just… Er, no no no no, not pottery or anything like that… it’s, uh, an anger management class actually. And speaking of that very class they’ve been advising I find some common ground with people before you confront them to avoid becoming violent, y’know? Well, actually, we do have a few things in common. Here — could you take these papers? They’re getting my suit wet. And, as I was saying, we do live on the same cul-de-sac; that’s common ground. And I believe we actually have the same house plan, except the reverse. Your garage is on the left and mine’s on the — No! It wasn’t me that dialed 911 at 6:31 p.m. Wednesday about your son’s noisy rock band. Anyway, it’s about your dog, and of course about our garbage, and some of the neighbours’ garbage cans… No, I’m sorry, it IS your dog who’s been strewing garbage around the block, and I have digital evidence — complete with red-eye reduction — which I will email to you to prove that it is, in fact, your dog. Now, I have to warn you that I have a black-belt in karate too, and I certainly don’t mind using it if necessary. No, not on you ma’am. on your stinking dog!»

We’re rockin’ the suburbs
Everything we need is here
We’re rockin’ the suburbs
But it wasn’t here last year
We’re rockin’ the suburbs
You’ll never know when we are gone
Because the timer lights the front
And turns the cricket noises on
Each night

Yeah, yeah
We’re rockin’ the suburbs
Yeah, yeah
We’re rockin’ the suburbs